Sunday

I crave congregating human contact
in that surly afternoon waiting
sitting; creating ways to fill the gaps
eying the empty strays of light

escape me does the time until
the sun's setting reminds me the hour
and paid up am I on all my change
patience; saved for spending on them

I berate myself for feeling desperate
and put the phone down again
remembering when it wasn't this hard
to find a friend on a Sunday